


Birdcage

by HikariNoHimeWriter



Category: Sword Art Online (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Morality, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Forced Crossdressing, Forced Feminization, Hand Jobs, In-Game Marriage, Kirito is forced into becoming a girl, Master/Servant, Praise Kink, Psychological Torture, Romanticized Abuse, Set before Gleam Eyes fight, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:27:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27391192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HikariNoHimeWriter/pseuds/HikariNoHimeWriter
Summary: Aincrad is like a birdcage. A floating castle in the sky from which no one can escape, trapped for the rest of their lives in a death game. No happiness, no hope, no freedom. A place created to be their worst nightmares and the greatest dream of a selfish man. All they can do is live one day after another, wondering when their time will come, when their life wings will be severed forever.This is not true to Kirito. But how could anyone imagine that his whole world and Kirito himself will change? Love can be born from pain, and happiness can be found within the golden bars or a birdcage. Will Kirito be able to hold them with her delicate hands? Will her Master love her as much as she does?
Relationships: Kirigaya Kazuto | Kirito/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Birdcage

**Author's Note:**

> A very thank you to my princess, who chose me to write it. I can't put into words how much I love this story and how much fun I had writing it! Hope you enjoy it and that it can make your day a little bit better.  
> With lots of love for you, Hime ♥

Aincrad is like a birdcage. A floating castle in the sky from which no one can escape, trapped for the rest of their lives in a death game. No happiness, no hope, no freedom. A place created to be their worst nightmares and the greatest dream of a selfish man. All they can do is live one day after another, wondering when their time will come, when their life wings will be severed forever.

Kirito heard that a million times over the past one year and a half. Even today, he can’t agree to those words. One look around gives always him a reason to smile. The cold river during the hottest days of summer. A flower swaying in the breeze, its vibrant red standing out against orange and yellow leaves. The pure white that covers everything during winter, hiding creatures they’d never meet in the other world. The shared meals with friends under the shadow of a tree. Every season brings a new surprise, and they never cease to amaze Kirito.

The pain and hopelessness are there, clinging to his virtual bones and heart. But there’s also beauty and life Kirito can’t ignore. He’ll never forget his guild, the lives he failed to save. He’ll never forget the friends that remain at his side, urging him to keep moving on. Klein, Agil, Argo, Silica... They’re the reason living in this giant birdcage is worth it.

_Kirito is not alone anymore._

A long yawn escapes Kirito. He’s still tired despite sleeping an entire day and nightday. The frontlines defeated the field boss after catering to another of Asuna’s tactics. Kirito didn’t dare disagree, knowing nothing would change even if the idea of using the NPCs as bait unnerved him. The battle lasted two days, not a single minute of break given to them given the surreal healing skills the boss possessed. He wonders how much worse it’ll be when they find the floor boss’s room. Kirito certainly doesn’t want to lack any rest until then.

He sits on his bed, taking a look at his room. His house in Algade is nothing but a huge mess. His mother and sister wuld surely yell at him for letting things like this. Kirito doesn’t mind, though. It’s not like he thinks of this place as his home and he’d rather use his time leveling up his skills or fooling around the woods of the 22th floor, where he had the highest chances of finding rare items.

Kirito raises two fingers and brings them down. A purple menu opens in front of him. The avatar silhouette lacks any additional items. He ignores the small amount of Cor he has left and opens the side bar. He clicks on the skills option, opening another bar with a short list.

Skills in SAO don’t work in the same way as other popular RPGs. At least, not anymore. Kirito remembers that during the beta, skill levels were independent from player level and it was Completed after being leveled up a thousand times. The current system is—and Kirito is being very polite— _a nightmare._ If Kirito weren’t being polite, however, he’d say it’s just another way Kayaba Akihiko found to fuck the players. Skills were dependent among themselves; leveling up one of them meant increasing the necessary amount of XP needed to level up all the others. It’s a system so unfair only SAO as a whole can beat it.

He sighed, closing the skill menu. Thinking about it wouldn’t do him any good and Kirito is certain he’ll be late to the next discussion meeting if he doesn’t leave soon. He doesn’t need to hear people cursing his solo player status again, even less if it’s from Kuradeel again. He’s thankful that it only takes a few more clicks to dress up and equip his items. He has no idea how much longer he’d take if he had to do it manually.

Double checking to make sure he didn’t forget anything, Kirito leaves the house and makes his way to the Teleporting Gate. The streets of Algade are busy with players and NPCs moving around. The sounds both comfort and frustrate him. The main plaza is far emptier than the streets and Kirito’s shoulders relax and he utters his destination. Bright blue light engulfs his body and the scenery around him changes. Old buildings give place to crystaline waters.

Selmburg is one of the prettiest cities Kirito saw in Sword Art Online. And, as he came to know through Argo, it’s also one of the most expensive places to live. He heard some players from the frontlines want to move to this floor. Kirito is honest and truthfully is more than satisfied with his current place. And it’s not like he has much money to begin with—Kirito’s habit of buying things left and right will ruin him someday.

The streets are far calmer than those in Algade. Kirito has no trouble making his way out of the city and into the main roads. Trees line up on one of the roadsides, casting shadows over bright green grass. Kirito stops in his tracks, entranced by the red spots among the higher tree branches.

He narrows his eyes. Fruits. When was the last time he encountered one? Kirito isn’t even sure he found one in the game. He’ll be late to the meeting, of course he will, but can they blame him for taking a presumably once-in-a-lifetime chance? Kirito edges closer to the trees, eyes trained on one of the red fruits. Apples, maybe? The shape is closer to passionfruits, though. He doesn’t care about it, picking up a small pebble. He’ll know the answer as soon as he gets them all to himself. Kirito throws the pebble, but pain erupts from his neck before it hits the fruit. He falls to the ground, barely catching sight of black polished boots.

And Kirito’s world turns into darkness.

* * *

The first thing Kirito notices when he wakes up is the cold. His body trembles despite his avatar’s resistance to the weather. The only source of light and warmth is the flickering flame of a candle. The room he’s in has no decoration or furnitures, and no windows or doors either. No way out. Completely trapped in a place he knows nothing of. He needs help. Asuna and Klein are strong. They’d come to him as soon as he sent out a message. They were friends, after all.

But what use is there when Kirito can’t even tell _where_ he is? The **Searching** **Skill** is limited to seeing player’s footprints and detecting them under certain rages. Kirito’s own skill level isn’t as high as he wishes. He could only do so much when the very system works against him, after all. If he wants help, he needs to figure out his location on his own. Or, he hopes, somehow get as many clues as he can. Anything the others can work with to—and the word sits bitter on his tongue— _save_ him.

Kirito swallows past the lump in his throat. He feels like there’s something around his neck, so cold and unyieldingly tight Kirito find’s it hard to breathe. He ignores the sensation, blaming his growing anxiety for conjuring up the worst of images—one where he dies slowly, unable to breathe, in this dark loneliness.

He stands up, only for his knees to buckle at the first step. He bites his lip, pushing back a curse he’s sure would have escaped otherwise. His second try is a little better; Kirito manages to walk to the nearest wall. He presses his fingers against the wood. It’s humid to the touch. A basement? Kirito knows for a fact only the most expensive houses have ones, typically located out of the big cities. Only a handful of said houses are located outside of safe zones and even fewer close to more dangerous monsters. All of them still have a small safe area surrounding the house, about ten or so meters if Kirito remembers correctly. The in-game context provided is that basements are a safe place against monsters.

If the objective was to keep him inside, chances are he’s being kept in one of the few houses next to high level monster’s nests. Kirito doubts that’s the case. Whoever had the trouble to kidnap and bring him here wouldn’t make it so easy.

He looks at the ceiling above him. The door isn’t on any of the walls; Kirito’s sure it’ll be somewhere above him. Kirito’s eyebrows narrow into a frown. He can’t see anything standing out against the dark wood. It’s even harder to tell when the light is only barely there. His gaze falls back to the candle.

Kirito picks it up carefully not to burn himself and blows it away. His vision instantly turns into night mode. He blinks a few times to get used to it before focusing on the task at hand. And, _ah_ , there it is! He can now make out the door’s shape, a rectangle so small Kirito doubts Agil and Dale would be able to pass through. There are no doorknobs on this side. Only someone coming from above can open it.

He grits out a curse under his breath. Kirito closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath even if he knows he doesn’t need it. The act helps him calm down and grounds him. He brushes his thumb over the candle he’s still holding. He frowns as his finger slides across a carving. He blinks down at it. Two one-handed swords crossed over a shield and three roses under them.

One of the things that fascinated Kirito about the game is how the NPCs work. Some of their shops keep recurring across multiple floors, much like a McDonald’s in the other world. They all have their unique logo, names and styles. And, just like in the real world, those chains can also be bought if players have enough Cor to get it. Which, truth be told, he’s never heard of up to now. Kirito remembers this pattern specifically to belong to a utility store chain that spread over the twenty or so first floors. Kirito remembers buying clothes and armor there multiple times over the first months, until players started making custom items by themselves.

His kidnapper must have bought it on the way here, probably in the nearest store they found. Kirito is in one of the first twenty floors. Houses with basements are rarer in early floors—Kirito’s sure this discovery is enough for his friends to do something.

He opens his menu, going for his friend list... Only to find a completely blank screen. Kirito’s mouth goes dry. He closes the menu and opens it again, and again, and again, hoping over reason that _their names will be there next time, this is just a bug, just once more...!_ It’s all erased now. Kirito bites his lip, moving to the Item Menu instead. Just as he suspected, the transportation stones are no more. Tears gather in Kirito’s eyes, making it impossible to tell the menus apart. A scream erupts from his throat. It’s filled with nothing but frustration and pure despair. His body shakes uncontrollaby and before he knows it he’s kneeling on the floor, unable to stand anymore.

As a kid, Kirito would often scratch his neck when under great stress. It happened after his grandfather beated him, and again after he discovered his adoption. The habit followed him into SAO and Kirito reaches for his neck, his mind begging him for some relief of the nightmarish itchiness. He knows it’s just a trick, that there’s no way he can feel those things in the virtual world, but since when feelings make sense?

His whole body freezes when Kirito’s fingers find something more than his own skin. The choking sensation from earlier wasn’t his imagination; there’s indeed a strap of cold, tight leather around his neck. Some small, circular dots stand poke Kirito’s hands. A collar, not different from those given to dogs. Do they really see him so lowly as to treat him as an animal? Kirito’s very being is filled with unbearable anger. He hooks his fingers under the leather, ready to tear it open if he needs to.

He doesn’t.

A red and white alert screen pops up before him. Game traps in SAO don’t have alerts, with end goal to kill as many players as possible. But traps created by players sometimes have this feature, often times customized for the person they have in mind. Kirito rubs his eyes, trying to dry the tears enough that he can read its contents. His eyes widen as he takes in the words and what they represent for him. His arms fall to his sides, listless, hopeless.

There’s no one coming to him. Kirito is utterly helpless before his captor.

He waits.

* * *

**Warning!**

**Do not remove this item. The Death Collar is filled with poison in its internal vials. Attempts to disrupt or remove it will result in immeditate release of its venom. If you do not want to have an agonizingly slow death, I repeat, do not remove this item.**

**You will be given instructions soon. Follow each order truth and thoroughly. Attempts to escape or disobey will also result in death.**

**Wait for next instructions.**

**May the games begin, Black Swordsman.**

* * *

Players cannot die from hunger in SAO. The very instinct to eat within the game is purely psychologial. It doesn’t interfer in the slightest with their real body, nor helps them gather HP. It’s just that—a selfish satisfaction for the mind. As the clearers advanced through the upper floors, the news they received from the Town Of Beginning were less than hopeful. Players who refused to leave the safety of the first town eventually found themselves without Cor and lacking any means to get food or hotel rooms to sleep. Those who saw it happening described it as a war scene: players drove mad from hunger attacking each others, stealing and even resorting to murder to get supriments.

There were times when Kirito wondered if risking his life to clear the game while bearing the hatred of thousands of players on his shoulders was worth it. Maybe he could have had a quiet, safe life in the Town Of Beginning, waiting for someone else—stronger, braver, smarter than him—to save him from this hellish game. When those news reached him, Kirito was convinced that, _yes_ , he made the right choice. Even if he dies tomorrow or the day after, Kirito knows he had the best life he could manage in this game. He’d never have to go through hunger or the pains of the powerless...

Or so he thought.

No other message appeared to him since that warning. And that was four days ago. Kirito only knows the time because of the small watch on the corner of his vision. Seeing the numbers changing quickly became his main form of distraction from the growing hunger inside him. Grim and sweat gathers on his skin as well, making him move uncomfortably in place.

Kirito never thought he’d ever want a bath as much as he does now, or that he’d one day crave Klein’s terrible cooking. He can’t even find it in himself to be mad at his captors anymore. All he wants is one of those tasteless breads from the second floor will do it. _Hell_ , it doesn’t even _need_ to be food! Just anything he can bite and swallow is good enough for him.

He startles out of his thoughts at the sudden creaking sound. After days left in the silence, Kirito’s ears are overly sensitive to the sounds. He turns around warily only to find the ceiling’s door open. A thick rope hands from it, the tip barely touching the floor. Kirito bites his lip. Is this another trap? Will he be killed if he leaves this place? His captor told him he’d receive instructions soon, but nothing came despite it already being four days. Kirito’s stomach grumbles and, even if he knows it’s just the game’s system working to match his mind, it settles Kirito’s decision.

Kirito winces at the rope’s rough texture. He feels weaker than he is, needing three tries before he finally starts climbing. The upper floor is just as dark as the basement. Kirito can see a window at the end of the corridor, but it’s locked and can only opened from outside. He glances around, trying to get a hold of this place.

There’s no furniture around either, making Kirito wonder if it’s on purpose. All houses come with basic furnishment, which players can choose to keep or replace as they wish. The owner of this place took it all out but didn’t replace any. Kirito doesn’t know why, but the newfound knowledge makes him nervous. He ventures through the house, opening doors only to find more sealed, empty rooms. No way out. Only darkness spreading wherever he goes.

Until the last toom.

There’s a single table and chair in this room. Kirito’s eyes widen and his mouth waters at what’s on top the table: food, more than he ever remembers having at once inside SAO, its delicious smell enticing Kirito better than any woman he’s ever met. He recognizes most of the ingredients as being rare S-ranks: the **Rangout Rabbit** , the **Crystal Powder** taking place of common rice, and many others he’s only heard from in stories from other players. There’s a cake at the center of the table as well, slices of apples on the top. The very same apples Kirito was trying to reach when he was captured.

It brings forth the anger Kirito forgot to feel. In the end it _is_ a game for them. A twisted, cruel game that Kirito never asked to be part of. But not even that flame could overpower the hunger eating away his sanity and the mind-numbing fear of what the collar on his neck would do if he tried to escape. He swallows, reaching for the nearest bowl of soup... Only to be burned before touching it.

Kirito hisses in pain, holding his hurt hand close to his chest. The air trembles around the table, like a rippling effect from the spot where his hand was just a moment ago. A red sign glares at Kirito and expands under his eyes. A message. His first instructions. Kirito’s lips curl in bitter displeasure. Of course. Nothing will come easy for him.

He takes in a deep breath, reading the instructions. His eyes widen and Kirito shakes, unable to accept it. He falls to the floor, hugging himself. His breath comes out in rapid, shallow pants. That kind of humilliation, Kirito just... He can’t! He can’t, _he can’t,_ ** _he can’t...!_**

* * *

**Mission**

**The special item _Body Resetter_ is hidden somewhere in this house. Find it and use it to change you avatar’s gender. Once all conditions are completed, you can get your reward.**

**Make sure you are pretty, Black Swordswoman.**

* * *

_Not here either._ Kirito wants to scream in frustration at his own weakness. He’s sure there’s not a single place left to look. His body shakes and tears flow down his eyes with his growing desperation. It doesn’t help that everytime he walks past the dinner room’s door, the food is still there, teasing him with its tantalizing smell and everything he can’t get yet.

And, as if it’s not enough, Kirito doesn’t even know what the item looks like. Is it the same size as the crystals or as small as an earring? He has no idea and his captors won’t give him any hint. Are they have fun seeing his misery? Do they take any pleasure from seeing him dragging his body on the floor? Do they even intend on letting him get out of this alive? He can only wonder, looking through the smallest hiding places.

Nothing. There’s nothing, no matter how much effor Kirito puts into it, how much he twists and contorts his body, he can’t find it. Is Kirito even supposed to find it? The answer is unclear and only serves to make him more bitter about all this. He eventually goes back to the dining room, eyes drawn to the full meal in front of him.

Kirito bites his lip to keep down a sob. It’s so _unfair_! He doesn’t even know why this is being done to him! Is it because he is a Beater? Did he offend someone? The only person he can think of is Asuna’s bodyguard, Kuradeel, and Kirito doubts that man can pull such an elaborated plan. Not on his own, at least. Ghosts can’t do anything either—even if they did, Kirito knows the dead members of Laughing Coffin would’ve just killed him on the spot.

Would knowing even make a difference at this point?

Kirito shivers. He hugs he legs close to his chest, trying to get any semblance of warmth. He leans his head against his knee, eyes almost closing from exhaustion when he catches a glimpse of something shining under the tablecloth. The light is only barely perceptible, dark purple against pure black. Kirito perks up, crawling to the table, reaching for what’s underneath in earnest.

All lights turn on the moment his fingers wrap around the small object. Kirito blinks, eyes burning from the sudden luminosity. He struggles to see what he’s holding. It’s a bracelet, a delicate silver ornament around a black rose. It’s beautiful. Kirito almost forgets the curse it’ll bestow upon him the moment he uses it. It doesn’t matter anymore. The item disappears and Kirito opens his Item Menu just as quickly.

His finger hovers over the **Body Resetter** , hesitation coursing through his body in the form of a shiver. Part of him still rejects this idea, what it means to him, while another, bigger part of him feared what would happen if he didn’t. Kirito isn’t even sure what will kill him first, the poison or his own hands, driven into madness. He swallows. Kirito selects the item.

The bracelet materializes again: this time, its silver glistens around Kirito’s wrist. He touches the rose-shaped bead in the middle, watching as it shines again. A new, pink menu opens before him.

**You are about to permanently change your avatar’s gender and appearance.**

**Are you sure you want to continue?**

**Yes — No**

A deep breath. Kirito selects _Yes_. The menu flashes white and a new, long list of options appear before him. They’re only vaguley familiar to the ones Kirito went through when first making his avatar in SAO—the handsome hero-like avatar he’d used before Kayaba’s **Mirror** forced him back into the body he hated the most. He quickly realizes the reason behind it. He’s making a female avatar. Of course it’ll be different.

Kirito bites his lip. _Make sure you are pretty_ , the words repeat in his mind in a voiceless echo. Kirito’s never been good with girls. He dove into the gaming world as soon as he became old enough to understand what attraction is. He’s unsure what others would consider as _pretty_. What if his understanding of it turned out to be different? If he’s not pretty enough and they kill him anyway? He’s scared. Terrified, even.

But what other choice does he have?

Kirito closes his eyes, trying to think of all the girls he knows. The first to come to his mind is his mother. Small shoulders that carried the weight of their whole family, head held high despite the mean comments on her height. Suguha, whose body Kirito knew always attracted the gazes of his old classmates. Curves, all in the right place, not too much, not too little.

He thinks of Lisbeth, of delicate hands capable of forging the toughest of metals with ease. Of Silica and porcelain-like skin that only existed in youth. He thinks of Argo, of sharp yet innocent eyes. Thinks of Asuna, of long lustrous hair and plump lips that more than once Kirito wondered what would feel like against his own. His eyes fall to the last item.

**Confirm changes?**

**Yes — No — Preview**

Kirito blinks at the last option. He selects it. A full body mirror materializes before him. Kirito stands up, eyes trained on the person looking back at him from the reflection. It’s a girl so pretty Kirito takes a moment to remember that _he_ created her. She’s exact his height, but looks far smaller than him. Her shoulders are small and curve up in delicate tension. Despite the baggy clothes she’s using, Kirito can see the hourglass shape os her cuves. Her breats are just the right size to make her look mature without losing the innocence of youth. Long, shiny hair falls behind her in a black curtain that reaches down her hips. A stray strand falls between her eyes, much like Kirito’s own hair. Her eyes have a pretty amethyst color that constrasts nicely with her pale skin.

Kirito’s eyes fall to the options again. He presses _Yes_. And then the girl is Kirito... forever.

* * *

Kirito thought it’d be humiliating to live as a girl, especially under these conditions. Locked up away from the sun, nothing but silence as company through the nights, hoping to be granted a new meal the next day. Kirito’s absolutely powerless. And she takes every moment of it with a twisted, sick sense of pleasure. She _likes_ this, she likes to knows that her very existence will be decided by something beyond her comprehesion. The weight of her collar doesn’t even bother her anymore—if anything, it’s a reminder that someone out there is watching over her.

The first meal is still the one that stands out in her memory the most. It was the first time she realized it’s not as much of a punishment as it is a blessing. She has something to look forward to, while not going through the same risks as those on the frontlines. As long as Kirito is a good girl, nothing will happen to her. She’s safe. She can be happy here. She has a purpose. And thrills her.

There are times when the old, lonely and sad Kirito will resurface and feel nothing but disgust at her thoughts. How can she think this way? How can she betray her friends, the only ones who truly care about Kirito, this way?

He regrets creating this monster. She refuses to accept him. No one came to save him. She doesn’t need to be saved. Only one Kirito is needed. She’ll thrive where he failed. And she’ll _live_.

* * *

**Mission**

**The item _Soul Resetter_ is hidden somewhere in this house. Use it and go back to being a Level 1 avatar. Your reward will await you once you are finished.**

**You are the prettiest, my fair lady.**

* * *

Kirito blushes at the compliment. It makes her feel warm and her heart flutters in her chest. She sets off to fulfill her orders right away. Now, with all lights on, Kirito can see the various colors covering the walls—bright yellow for the living room, dark blue for the bathroom, pastel yellow for the kitchen and dinner room, floral wallpaper for Kirito’s room—as well as different tiles throughout the house. It makes her wonder if this is a city house or if the owner just had enough money to change the very structure of the place.

She shakes her head, focusing back on the task at hand. Kirito already knows everything there is to this house—her house, now. Kirito knows this house like the palm of her hand. It takes far less time to find the **Soul Resetter** then it did to find the **Body Resetter** , mostly because now she knows where to look for. Kirito blinks down at the basement where she spent her first days in this house. A pale blue light comes from there, picking her attention. She jumps down, landing on her feet graciously. The **Soul Resetter** is a small blue box. It’s beautiful. When Kirito touches it, the item immediately disappears. She opens her Item Menu, selecting the item without hesitation.

**Warning**

**Using this item will erase all your progress. Are you sure you want to proceed?**

**Yes — No**

Kirito selects _Yes_. Her body is surrounded by blue light. She closes her eyes and everything she learned within SAO escapes her slowly. All the nights training hard to increase her skills suddenly means nothing. The very weight of the swords on her back is foreign to her. Kirito swallows down the discomfort she feels.

She turns around, gripping back on the rope to climb up. It’s even harder than it was the first time, with her body physically forgetting all the techniques and losing all the enhancements she acquired over the months. When she makes it up, she’s rewarded with a gulf of fresh air.

Kirito frowns. With the whole house locked, there shouldn’t be any air chain running around. She blinks, finally taking in her surroundings. What was previously an empty hallway now is completely decorated with paintings on the walls and small tables with empty photo frames. And, at the end of the hallway, the window is open.

She jumps to her feet, running up the stairs to the room she claimed as hers. Like the corridor, her room is now totally furnished. Her bed resembles that of a princess and Kirito almost cries at the prospect of finally having a comfortable night.

What makes those tears fall, however, is what’s beyond the glass door. Kirito reaches for the handle— _she can open it from inside now_ —and pushes the door open. Kirito steps out into the balcony, teary eyes wide as she takes in the horizon.

The house is located at the top of a hill, her room overlooking a beautiful, beautiful lake. The sky is painted a beautiful shade of orange, the sun almost setting beyond the walls of Aincrad. It’s the first time in weeks she can see the world as it is.

Kirito can’t think of any better reward for a task well done. In her heart, she whispers, _thank you, Master_.

* * *

Despite having all doors and windows open, Kirito spends all her time within the house. She doesn’t feel pretty enough to go out, her baggy clothes from her time as the Black Swordsman making her feel uglier than she is. The anxiety she feels regarding her own appearance increases every day without any new order from her Master. New tasks give her something to focus and think about. Staying idle like this only makes her irritated with her own inability to be _good_. She sighs, tossing and turning on her bed, unable to fall asleep. It’s late now. Kirito needs to be on her best form in the morning. What if Master sends her a new instruction early on? Kirito would die of shame if she can’t fulfill his desires properly.

She hates this feeling almost as much as the old Kirito hates her. Almost. She huffs, sitting up on bed and officially giving up sleeping. She stands up, opening the door to the balcony and allowing the cold breeze to come in. Kirito inhales deeply, memorizing this sensation—the wind on her hair, the slight shiver it brings forth, the bone-deep satisfaction that comes with the realization that _yes, I’m alive_. 

Kirito loves this place. Even more now, that it feels more like home rather than a prison. She can believe she’s here out of her own choice rather than being kidnapped in broad daylight. The collar around her neck is just another sign that she’s loved and that her Master is taking care of her from somewhere out there. Her Master freed her of the chains keeping her from finding her happiness—Beater, the clearers, the other world, nothing of those matter anymore. Kirito has all she wants here, and what else can she ask for?

A sigh leaves her lips and Kirito turns around. A frown appears on her face. There’s a box in the middle of her room, something that wasn’t there before. A rush of excitement runs through her veins and she quickly approaches the object, kneeling to look at it closer.

Kirito reaches for the box and another red warning box appears before her. She reads the message in earnest. It’s Master! They’re finally looking after her again! She opens her Item Menu without thinking twice.

* * *

**Mission**

**There is a surprise waiting for you somewhere in this room. To get it, first empty all your inventory into this box. Then, select the option _Ethic Code Off_ in your main menu. Be sure to act as a proper lady from now on and good things will come your way.**

**Your good behavior is very pleasing to see, my dear.**

* * *

Kirito swallows in embarrassed pleasure at reading the nickname. Part of her wants to hear her Master say that to her, to see the smile that accompanies those words and lean into the embrace that’s offered to her. When she follows through with the second part of her Master’s order—oh, so much simpler compared to those she had to complete before—those thoughts gain a new light.

Instead of just uttering those words, her Master will whisper them against her ear. Her body will be covered by warm kisses and demanding touches, all while those quiet praises make her head spin. If Kirito closes her eyes, she can imagine it with striking perfection; all she needs to make those images real is a face to put on her Master.

Kirito wants to belong to her Master in every sense of the word, wants to have her precious virginity taken away by Master. That way Master will _have_ to take responsibility, to make Kirito their bride. She doesn’t even mind if Master is a woman or a man. Kirito just wants her Master.

But SAO is a game aimed at minors. Such thing is impossible, isn’t it? All Kirito can do is make sure her Master knows of all the love and devotion taking roots in her heart. But changing the avatar’s appearance should also be impossible, right? Kayaba Akihiko said so in that first day. Her Master made the impossible, possible. They can surely make this happen too, right?

She presses her thighs together. She feels weird, especially between her legs. It’s hot and Kirito’s breath comes out in short pants. Part of her wonder what is this feeling. Is she being a bad girl for feeling this way? Will Master think she’s not being a proper lady?

 _No_ , Kirito thinks to herself, shaking her head to get rid of those thoughts. It takes a while before her breath comes back to normal and the hotness subsides. Kirito stands on wobbly legs, looking around in search of her reward. It’ll appear here, in her room. Her Master said so, Kirito believes Master’s word above all.

Kirito stands up, looking around the room with narrowed eyes. She has no idea what kind of reward her Master spoke of. But there aren’t many places Master could’ve hidden it here. She starts searching through the drawers of her nightstand, the study table. Kirito looks behind the curtains and under the bed, out on the balcony and inside the flower pots. Then her eyes are inevitably drawn to the empty closet on the opposite wall of her bed. She pushes the door open with reluctance, only to me met with a miriad of colors and textures replacing what originally was a dark, empty space.

She steps into the closet, eyes wide as she takes the new clothes. Various dresses line up each side of the small corridor, all of them in different shapes, styles, lengths and and colors. Kirito runs her fingers through a red and gold velveteen dress. She remembers Sugu, her ever-sweet, ever-romantic little sister, babbling about those being the colors of marriage in China. Kirito’s cheeks burn in pleased embarrassement. So Master wants to see her as a bride? Kirito will make sure to use it when the time comes.

There’s _nothing_ Kirito won’t do to please her beloved.

She pauses at a beautiful white nightgown. It’s made out of satin and it’s cool to the touch. Kirito takes the dress into her inventary without thinking twice. With a few more clicks, she’s left in nothing but her under garments... Which makes her wince in distaste. It’s still the same she used before, when she still carried herself in the body of a man. The memory brings forth a pang in her chest. What would’ve been of her if Master didn’t rescue her from that miserable life?

Kirito continues exploring the closet. A smile spreads on her face as she finds a box full of underwear. Lacy, pretty little things that makes her blood rush with excitement. She bites her lip. Some of the pieces are stand alone and others are a set. Kirito remembers the nightgown. She takes off the offending briefs and puts on one of the white panties with pale pink laces. Only then she puts on the dress and it feels—Kirito can’t even start to describe it!

She stands up again, eyes trained on the mirror occupying the whole wall. The nightgown barely reaches the middle of her thighs. Kirito’s hands shake as she reaches for her breasts for the first time. A quiet gasp escapes Kirito’s lips. They’re, _oh_ , so soft and real under her fingers. She touches them with an almost childish curiosity—a trait of someone who only now gets to knows their body.

Kirito runs her thumbs over perk nipples. A shiver runs down her body. They’re perk and visible under the semi-transparent fabric of her nightgown. Touching them brings forth a wave of warmth different from anything she’s ever felt. It pools between her legs, itching so badly Kirito can’t resist it: she reaches for the hidden, special place between her thighs. A new gasp escapes her as her fingertips brush against her panties’ fabric. She presses them further, mewling at the new sensation.

Avatars in Sword Art Online are completely devoid of any parts that would otherwise bring pleasure. That’s what Kirito used to believe until now. Her vision goes blurry and it takes her moment to realize she’s crying. She’s crying, not out of pain, but happiness. This is _her_ body and it’s _perfect_.

Kirito’s moans follow her into her dreams, where a faceless figure touch and claim everything she is as theirs. And she’s happy to oblige, to serve and provide. She’ll give Master everything, hoping to one day have their love in return.

* * *

Kirito’s days become a blur of new sensations and amazement. There’s no shame keeping her from experiencing the world as it is. She leaves the house, hair swaying behind her little running figure and bare feet crunching fallen leaves in her way. The wind carries her laughter around, a thousand bells chiming the sweetest melody created by men.

If Sword Art Online is a birdcage, then Kirito is no longer bound by its golden bars; she’s part of the earth, she’s part of the water that covers her body in refreshing delight. She found a place to belong, somewhere where she can spread her wings and fly, somewhere the Beater, Black Swordsman is no more.

Giggles still escape her as she makes her way back to her home. Her sky blue dress is completely soaked from the lake’s water and clings to her skin like a lover’s embrace. Kirito loves this sensation. She indulges on it every day now, but not too long, or she fears she’ll miss the time when her dear Master returns home.

The first think she does upon returning home is changing into dry clothes. She ties her hair up in a loose bun. No dress this time; only a silk robe covers her. With her Master’s latest present—a shell-shaped make-up item—Kirito was able to change her appearance to further enhance her beautiful. Her lips are pinker now, and the tips of her hair are colored in a burnt shade of red. A permanent blush rests on her cheeks, and her eyelashes are slightly longer. She spins around, the large sleeves of her robe following her like real rings. The reflection on the mirror shows her a truth Kirito can truly and faithfully believe now: she is beautiful, she deserves this happiness.

Kirito will fight for this with everything she’s got.

The sun is setting behind the hills across the lake. Kirito leaves her room and sprints down the stairs. It’s almost dinner time. Now she can cook her own meal, as a true lady and wife does. She’s been training in er own way as well; but instead of **Sword Skills** , now Kirito is learning **Cooking** and **Sewing Skills**. Hopefully she can level up her character soon and pick up an instrument as well. There’s an old piano in the living room Kirito wishes to play when her Master comes home.

Cooking in SAO is easier than Kirito believed it to be. She still needs to be extra careful regarding time if she doesn’t want to ruin her meal. It’s happened a few times already, and every single one of them a new meal would appear to her to replace the one she couldn’t complete by herself. Her heart always flutter in her chest when it happens. _Master is taking care of me_ , the thought makes her cheeks turn redder.

This night she doesn’t mess it up. This night she won’t be alone. But that’s a truth Kirito’s yet to find out.

For now, Kirito focuses on serving the table the way she’s learned to over the past days. As usual, she puts an extra set of silverware just in case. Looking at the delicately carved wine glasses, Kirito wonders which bottle she should choose. She’s not an expert, but in the other world they say the older, the better, right? Does the same logic apply to SAO or is it also rank-based? She purses her lips, picking an S-rank wine bottle from the cabinet. She won’t drink it, not on her own. It’s a treat, a celebration for getting the one thing she still lacks. She smiles at her own work as everything’s ready. Kirito wonders how much better she can get, how much more delicious things she can cook in the future. _More than I can count_ , she hopes.

Oh, but she can’t have dinner dressed this way! As freeing and comfortable is feels, Kirito knows this are no manners for a lady. What would Master say if they saw her like this? They’d surely be displeased!

She doesn’t run back to her room. Instead, her steps and light and carefree, more confident than she ever felt in her whole life. Kirito looks at all her dresses again, feeling their textures under her fingertips. She needs to be beautiful. She wants to feel beautiful. At the same time, she wants something new.

Her gaze lands on a grey purple tulle dress. The collar is a boat neck style and the sleeves short. Beads litter the torso in beautiful patterns and various sizes. Kirito’s always went for bright colors up until now. The realization makes her pick up the tulle dress. She lets her hair fall free behind her back, only two strands held by a rose-shaped hairpin at the back of her head. No other jewelry is needed, for Kirito’s sure the chest beads makes up for them. A pair of white high heels brings everything together.

She looks at her reflection on the mirror almost sheepishly. It’s still one thing to dress herself for the day, but another completely different thing to dress to please and impress. Kirito can only hope her appearance is good enough for her Master, that she finally achieved their expectation of _pretty_.

She bites her lip, a sudden anxiety filling her heart. Her gaze falls to her feet and her hands close into fists. Her vision goes blurry as though she’s about to cry. Kirito wipes those tears before they can fall. The action brings her attention to something else—a movement in the lower corner of the mirror, a shadow watching over her.

Kirito’s heart skips a beat. She turns around, hesitant, afraid. _Is this a dream?_ _Is her mind playing tricks on her?_ It’s not. A man leans against the closet’s doorframe. He’s dressed in an elegant suit, silver with a symbol embroidered over the front pocket: two-one handed swords crossed over a shield and three roses under them. He carries himself with the dignity of a noble, a ruler, owner of lands and Kirito’s heart. Ebony strands frame a handsome face and olive skin compliments dark grey eyes. When he speaks, his voice sounds low yet Kirito hears every word perfectly, his tone carefree and polite at the same time, the confidence of a man who knows what he wants and gets it no matter what.

“Dinner will get cold... _my fair lady._ ”

Her Master arrived, and Kirito is finally whole again.

* * *

Kirito feels she’ll break any moment. Not out of pain, but out of the sheer tension coursing through her body. Master stood there, watching, waiting, before placing a hand on her back and guiding her to the dinning room. And then, only silence accompanied their meal. There’s a lump in her throat, a multitude of questions she wants to ask but dares not to. A lady doesn’t speak out of turn, a good wife waits for her husband’s permission.

The only source of comfort she has is the occasional approving smile Master sends her. It makes breathing a little easier and Kirito can taste the food again. She’s proud of herself. She pleased Master, even if just a little. Now if only he said something, anything, to ease the anguish in her chest.

The words he gifts her with aren’t what she expected, however. “Dance with me.” Plain and simple, with a smile that melts her heart. He offers her a gloved hand, which Kirito accepts promptly despite the reluctance she still feels inside.

He guides her to the piano room, to the wide glass doors and windows. His eyes look like silver under the moonlight and Kirito stares a moment too long, wondering how someone could have such beautiful eyes. She bows to him, just as she’s seen in many of Suguha’s princess movies. There’s no music to follow to, but Kirito doesn’t need it. Her very being was shaped to please this man; his hands on her body, his breath on her ear are all she needs to know what to do. And then she’s floating, lost in this moment she dreamed with for so long. Master’s hands make her body burn with excitement and a sense of belonging she never felt before, as a man and a woman.

She spins under Master’s guidance, her skirt lifting with the movement to reveal her delicate heels. Kirito’s hair falls over her shoulder when she brings her back, hugging her with barely contained possessiveness. This close she can see the various colors that makes his eyes: silver, metal grey, light green, sand brown, blue, and so, _so_ many more she can’t keep track on them.

“You truly are the prettiest," he whispers, lips almost brushing against hers. Kirito inhales through her mouth, her grip on Master’s shoulders tightening a little. “Choosing you truly was my best decision.”

Something in his words, in the tone of his voice, makes something resurface within her. Memories, of pain and fear, trapped within a dark, cold and empty basement, away from everything she knew, still held down by the chains of a body that never truly belonged to her. Captured, stripped from every ounce of dignity, then given everything she could possibly wish for—or was that her mind tricking her, making her believe a sweet illusion to escape a terrible fate? She doesn’t know. And now, under Master’s intense gaze, Kirito knows it’s not the right place nor the time to question this.

She licks her lips, and asks the one question she’s always wanted to, even before becoming the Kirito Master wanted. “Why me?”

Master smiles. He expected this question. She closes her lips firmly, waiting, eyes fixed on silvery ones. “Because I hated you,” his words sound carefree as ever, but Kirito can hear the edge on them. Master is dangerous, more than she can truly believe. But the love she felt still rings true within her. And it’s why it hurts so much, in mind and body, heart and soul. “You see, darling, I’m far from being a clearer. Even the idea of guilds disgust me. No, power lies in money. The one with the most money is the most powerful and in the end wil be the one to thrive while all those fools die for nothing.”

Kirito thinks back to the symbol embroidered on his chest, to the oddly modern house. She remembers all the exquisite dresses and high-quality food. No one ever punished her even as she ruined S-rank ingredients or accidentally torn some rare fabric during her sewing sessions. _Money is power_. This man carries himself with the grace of a ruler; something that couldn’t be learned in SAO. He was born powerful and intends on living this way for the rest of his life. Kirito wonders what she is in the grand scheme of things, if she’s just a toy to be thrown away. But then what’s the point of going through all that, of making her what she is now?

“You’ll learn that the easiest way to make money in Sword Art Online is through acquiring and seeling off rare items. So when I heard news of Nicholas the Renegade appearing on Christmas with an unique item drop I was ecstatic. I sent all my best men to get that item no matter what... Only to learn that a solo player, a _Beater—_ ” he practically spits the word, his smile twisting into one of pure disdain. “—stole it from under their noses and _gave_ it to no-one to use on another no-one... Can you imagine how furious I was? You’re a smart girl, I’m sure you understand.”

She does. Understanding does nothing to quench the sudden thirst she feels, nor the horror revolving in his— _her_ stomach. The Black Swordsman is no more. The old Kirito _can’t_ live, or she, too, will perish under the hands of her Master.

“I wanted to kill. I wanted to let you suffer the worst of deaths and send your swords to your friends, so they’d know you were dead.” There’s a sense of twisted satisfaction in his voice that makes Kirito shiver. Master’s dreaming expression makes her want to flee, but she stay, anchored by those very hands and feelings she wishes she didn’t harbor. “But when I saw you in the basement on that first night... You were nothing like I imagined. Small, fragile, with a face so beautifully delicate that could’ve fooled the wisest of men. It made me think, why waste this? Why not polish that rough diamond and make it mine instead? And look at you now. Not even The Flash can’t even compare to your beauty.”

He takes a step back. Master opens his menu, running through his side bar. The moment his eyes leave Kirito is when she can finally breathe again. Her head spins with all the new information. The true reason behind all this is, indeed, revenge. Part of her wants to scream and cry in frustration. But the other, bigger part of her, the one that lives in the resent and longs for a dream too big to carry alone, is overjoyed. Even as a man, her appearance pleased Master, enough that he chose her over his vengeance. She blinks, slow and belatedly, as a screen opens before her.

**Player _Regis_ asks your hand in marriage.**

**Do you accept?**

**Yes — No**

Kirito’s hands shake as she reads the message. Marriage, the closest two people can be to a family in SAO. Kirito wants this. She wants to be this man’s— _Regis_ , she now knows—, she wants to be his wife, his lover, his everything. That desire, to be his despite everything, no, _because_ of everything, overwhelms Kirito. The answer is more than clear, because _of course, a million times yes!_

But before the words can leave her lips, before she can press that button, Regis reaches for her. Even through the gloves, his fingers are warm against her skin. “You worked so hard. Every day, following every order, being so much more than I could expect and ask for... I know I didn’t start in the right way. I also know I wouldn’t change a single thing if it meant being with you here, the way we are now. But, Kirito...”

His eyes look a lot softer than they did just a moment ago, full of affection and something else she can’t quite pinpoint, but makes her heart race all the same. His finger slide down her neck, reaching for the collar that never left her since that first day. A soft click echoes and the collar falls to the ground. Kirito swallows, for the first time unrestrained by the leather and metal that meant the difference between life and death and later became a symbol of who she belongs to.

“I want you to stay,” Regis continues, and for the first time his voice fails. For the first time, Kirito can see Regis for what he truly is: a child, much like her, who’s struggling to survive in the only way he knows. Regis knows loneliness. He knows this pain. Kirito’s heart aches for him. “I want you to be my wife, to rule this empire with me, but... I want you to want it too. I want you to love me like I love you.”

She’s free.

She’s alive.

She can _choose_.

And, most importantly, Kirito is a girl in love. She blinks through the tears, fingertips hovering over the _Yes_ option. The menu disappears, leaving only Regis in front of her. She reaches for him, fingertips brushing against his cheek. There was a time when Kirito thought of faces in SAO as just a bunch of polygons and data. But now, touching the face of the man she loves, her _husband_ , Kirito knows the truth. This is reality. This is her beloved’s face. This is the face she’ll see every day upon waking and the last before falling asleep. And Kirito thorough and truthfully looks forward to it, to spend the rest of her life with this person.

Regis holds her hand, careful as though afraid she’ll break from the touch alone. “You’re aware there’s no turning back, right? You are _mine_ now.” His voice is barely a whisper.

“And _you_ are mine too. Forever,” she adds, a sweet, yet playful smile on her lips. She takes a step forward, closing the gap between them. She can feel Regis’ chest expand with his breath, see the exact moment his gaze falls to her lips.

She doesn’t know who leans in first, only that it’s sweet, and warm, and everything Kirito imagined it to be. Kirito’s head spins, and the world reduces to the feeling of Regis against her, his warmth, his touch setting her on fire. She parts her lips, breath coming out in ragged pants despite her not needing to breathe. A soft gasp escapes her when Regis licks on her lower lips and takes the chance to deepen the kiss. It tastes of sweet, sweet wine and Kirito moans into it, unable to resist Regis’ obvious dominance. His hands find home on Kirito’s hips, bringing her even closer. Kirito places her hands on his shoulders, her body trembling in pleasure as she’s once again reminded of how much taller Regis is compared to her.

He parts the kiss, still close enough that his lips brush against hers. Kirito isn’t sure what she looks like, but if the warmth on her cheeks and the sound of her breath are anything to go by, she must be a blushing mess in Regis’ eyes.

She wants more, _needs_ more. She needs Regis and everything he’s willing to give her. Kirito kisses him again, and again, and again, fingers trailing over her husband’s chest. She grabs the lapels of his suit, trying to get rid of the offensive layers of clothing keeping her from feeling Regis’ skin. It doesn’t work. Of course it doesn’t. Even if she tried with all her strength, Kirito doubts she’d be able to overcome its durability. A loud whine leaves her lips.

Regis chuckles into the kiss. The sound of his laugh both frustrates and thrills Kirito. Her eyes flutter open. Regis is smiling, a smile that belongs to Kirito only. No one else will hear it, not like this, so genuinely amused. He brushes one of his fingers against Kirito’s neck, following the shape of the collar that is not there anymore. “So eager, my love,” he utters in a singing voice. Kirito shivers at the nickname. Regis’ smile only grows, “There’s no need to rush. I’m not going anywhere... And neither are you.”

With those words, Regis takes Kirito’s hand again. He places a kiss to the back of it. _Respect_ , her mind suplies as he gently guides her out of the music room. She knows where they’re going. She knows what will take place once the door closes behind her.

Kirito’s never wanted something so much in her life.

Regis opens the door to her room, yet it isn’t _hers_ anymore. The pastel-colored, floral wallpapers are now replaced with gold on black rose pattern. Even the bedsheets have a luxurious golden tone, the color of royalty. Regis’ color, and now hers too.

 _Their_ room.

Kirito’s eyes burn with unshed tears. One of them falls, leaving behind a cold trail on Kirito’s otherwise warm cheek. And then Regis is right at her side, wiping that lonely tear away. He presses his lips to Kirito’s ear. She sucks in a breath at the sensation. “I remember black is your favorite color, I hope it’s to your liking,” he says with such honesty that shakes Kirito.

She nods. Even if she barely wears it nowadays, the black will always hold a special place for Kirito. And now, seeing how well it compliments Regis’ precious gold, she only likes it even more. “It’s perfect.”

The answer seems to please Regis. He places another kiss to Kirito’s lips. It’s barely a brush of lips, chaste and sweet, an unspoken promise of what’s yet to come.

“Good,” he whispers. There’s something in his voice, the barest of trembles, that makes her wonder if part of him is nervous too. If he too is overwhelmed by everything that’s happening, if his heart is beating as fast as Kirito’s is.

Regis’ hands push Kirito to sit on the edge of the bed. He kneels in front of her, silvery eyes looking up at Kirito with pure desire. He reaches for her legs, holding her ankle delicately. Kirito’s breath gets stuck in her throat as he takes off her shoe. She can’t shake off the sense of intimacy that comes from the act—it only grows bigger as Regis leans down to press a kiss to her foot. _Servitude_ , a promise of faithfulness and dedication. He does the same with the other foot, his eyes never once leaving Kirito’s blusing face.

He smiles, making a trail of kisses up her ankle and leg. Each kiss burns on her skin, leaving behind an invisible mark of pleasure. Regis stops when he reaches her thigh. Instead of more kisses, he brushes the tip of his nose against Kirito’s oversensitive skin, inhaling deeply as though he wants to memorize her scent. Kirito bites her lip to stop a moan. She’s feeling too much, yet not nearly enough. She’s struck with the desire to feel Regis inside of her, marking her with his seed. She wants it _now_. But it’s clear in the smile he gives her that he has other ideas in mind.

“This won’t do, darling,” he chides lightly, reaching for Kirito’s face. He gently pulls her lip away from her teeth. “How can I know I’m doing it right if I can’t hear your pretty voice?”

Kirito swallows. She wants to answer him, say that it doesn’t matter because she wants everything he has to give her. She doesn’t. The words won’t come out, stuck between a gasp and a moan. Kirito looks at Regis’ eyes, waiting, _begging_ , for him to understand, to give her what she so desperately needs. His smile falters under her gaze, eyes narrowing and darkening with an emotion deeper than desire, something she knows also reflects in her eyes but finds no words to describe it.

The next kiss she receives is demanding and all-consuming, and Kirito has no power against it. She submits, completely leaving herself under the mercy of Regis’ lips. He struggles to catch her breath when he lets go. Regis’ kisses her cheek, her jaw, the curve of his neck. He bites on the skin of Kirito’s neck, sucking and licking it eagerly. Her hands shoot to grab his sleeves, head leaning back to give him more space as a long, stuttering moan escapes her lips.

“Such lovely sounds,” he coos. His right hand reaches for the back of Kirito’s dress. Regis hums in delight when he finds something. A zipper. Kirito didn’t even know clothes in SAO could be removed manually, she didn’t even know _sex_ was possible until now, and the newfound knowledge steals a new moan from her. “So perfect, my dearest.”

Regis pushes the collar of her dress down, revealing Kirito’s pale shoulders. He litters the exposed skin with kisses and lovebites. Kirito wants to reach down her legs, to touch her throbbing vagina. It’s begging for her attention, for some sort of relief, but she dares not to. She won’t do anything her husband doesn’t want her to—until he says the word, she’ll endure it with all she has.

A shudders runs through her body when the fabric of her dress brushes against her nipples. Regis’ tongue follows it promptly, circling the areola with practiced ease. His free hand reaches for the other breast, playing with the nipple between his fingers. Kirito throws her head back in sheer pleasure. It didn’t feel nearly as good when she touched herself before. She wonders if it’s because it’s someone else’s hands touching her, or if it’s simply because it’s Regis.

He leans back to take a better look at her. Regis is an artist admiring his own work, and Kirito’s body the canvas he’s painting on. “Raise your hips a little,” he commands. Kirito obeys without thinking twice, allowing him to completely remove her dress and toss it away. Kirito’s cheeks turn redder as she remembers she had no underwear, a habit she picked up on when wearing her longer dresses. Regis smiles approvingly, making Kirito’s heart leap in her chest. “Good girl. Lie down for me now.” Again, Kirito obeys without missing a beat.

Regis climbs on the bed after her. His fingers deftly work on his own clothes, removing one piece at a time. Kirito can’t avert her gaze—no, she doesn’t _want_ to. She wants to see everything, from the carefully carved muscles to the prominent collar bone to the dip of his hips. Her breath quickens when his fingers hook on his underwear, the last layer between them. When he finally, _finally_ removes it, Kirito can only swallow at the sight. Her attention goes back to Regis’ face when he leans over her, so close the tip of Kirito’s reddened lips brush against his chest.

“You can touch it,” he answers the unspoken question hovering in Kirito’s mind, “here...”

Regis takes her hand in his, guiding it to his penis. Kirito’s breath hitches. It’s warm against her palm, hard and big just as she imagined before. She gives it one tentative stroke, smearing pre-cum over the length to ease her movements. The soft moans Regis lets out encourages her to keep going, her own arousal increasing tenfold for pleasuring her beloved.

She reaches for him with her free hand, fingers slipping between curvy black strands. Kirito only pays half a mind to the softness of Regis’ hair, pulling him into a kiss. He hums into her mouth, their kiss messy and needy above everything. Kirito yelps into the kiss, her lower half burning. She tries to close her legs, hoping the friction will alleviate it, but Regis’ body prevents her from doing so. The attempt is still worth it, however, as Regis’s hand trails its way down her hips and between her legs.

Kirito breaks the kiss with a gasp. The feeling of Regis’ fingers nearing her entrance makes another wave of pleasure course through her. Regis just feels it for a while, discovering every curve and crevice that makes Kirito’s most private part. There’s hesitance in his touch for the first time in the night. She looks at him, unconsciously searching for answer, only to find furrowed brows and pressed lips.

As if feeling her gaze, Regis looks back at her eyes. His voice is firm when he speaks, a command, not a request, “Show me how to do it. How to make you feel good.”

Kirito bites her lip, nodding. She lets go of Regis’ penis, reaching for her own vagina. She guides his hand to her clitoris, showing him how to stimulate it amidst broken moans. Kirito’s eyes flutter, back arching at the new ownlaught of sensations. “There, careful. Feels good. Inside, too. Want you inside,” she pleads, her voice breathless.

Regis kisses her sweaty forehead. “Good girl. I’m so proud of you. You’re doing so well for me.” Kirito moans louder at the praise. Her entrance gets wetter under Regis’ fingertips. He smiles, amusement clear in his eyes. “You like it? You like being praised, dear?” Kirito nods mindlessly. If she agrees, he’ll keep touching her, right? If she agrees, she’ll have what she needs. “So honest, so beautiful. And all mine. You won’t mind if I fuck you, right? Since you’re my beautiful wife.”

His teasing voice makes Kirito’s face burn in shame and pleasure. He pushes the first finger inside. Kirito moans, spreading her legs further. She’s never felt so good before, so adored, desired, _loved_. Kirito’s mind still can’t fully grasp the extension of the bless that fell upon her life. But she still wants thism she still wants more. Kirito barely notices when Regis started moving his finger, now when he added another one, and another after that. But it’s fine. She wants more than just Regis’ fingers, more than those whispered promises and praises.

Kirito wants him, everything he is, everything he’s ready to give her.

Regis removes his fingers when he deems she’s ready. Kirito trembles in anticipation. Regis doesn’t ask for permission, but the gentle squeeze on her hip tells her there’s nothing to worry about. Regis care, and that’s all Kirito could’ve asked for. Her body tenses up when he brushes the head of his cock against his entrance, but forces herself to relax. Somewhere deep within her she knows it’ll hurt if she stays tense. Regis’ approving hum lets her know she’s doing it right.

Kirito throws her head back when he presses inside. Regis’ cock is a lot bigger than his fingers, the sensation more than overwhelming.. He plays with her breasts, kisses and bites her neck all while whispering words of praise. There’s no pain, only hot pleasure driving her mind numb and body into an oversensitive mess. She hugs Regis, wraps her legs around his waist, and _screams_ when his hips meet her ass. Not a single inch of Regis is left out, completely filling Kirito’s insides

Tears gather in the corners of her eyes. She can’t... This is too much! She feels she’s about to explode in pleasure. Kirito can’t form any coherent thought, all words melting into a string of never-ending moans. Regis kisses her, drinking every last sound she makes. He slides out of her, thrusting back inside in a slow, tentative motion. He repeats it, faster, more confident, and again, and again, and again, until the sounds of slapping skin fills the entire room.

Kirito’s nails dig into Regis’ back. _Not enough_ , the gesture seems to say, _harder, faster, now!_ Regis pulls his torso up, hands reaching for Kirito’s legs. It almost feels like she’s breaking in half, but the next thrust makes even the discomfort worth it. Kirito’s mouth falls open in a soundless scream. Drool scapes the corner of her lips, trailing down her chin. Regis’ cock reaches even deeper within her with the new position, brushing against a particular spot that makes her eyes roll in pleasure.

Regis brings her legs to his shoulders. One of his hands reaches for her vagina again, circling around the clitoris just as Kirito taught him before. That’s all it takes to push her over the edge: Kirito’s back arches as she cums, spasms of pleasure shaking her body. Her insides tighten around Regis. He cums inside her with a last, stuttering thrust. Kirito moans at the warmth of her husband’s cum filling her. She all but collapses under his body, exhausted and overwhelmed beyond belief.

A sigh escapes Kirito’s lips as Regis litters her face with gentle, chaste kisses. She leans into the kisses, capturing Regis’ lips with her own. It’s a lazy, slow kiss, and it’s no less perfect in Kirito’s eyes.

“Are you happy?” he asks in a hoarse voice. His hair now looks like a hurricane around his face, making him look younger and more _human_.

“I am,” Kirito answers truthfully. All she feels is bone-deep contentment and warm love. “Thank you.”

Regis’ eyes widen a little. “For what?”

“Everything,” the answer comes easily, “but mostly... for choosing me... and for loving me.”

Regis smiles. He kisses her again, a soft peck on her lips. “You too. Thank you for being you, my dearest Kirito.”

Maybe one day Kirito will have to go out and face the world again. Maybe—and she truly, honestly wishes she’s wrong—one day the clearers will beat the game and she’ll be thrown into another completely different reality. But, for now, she can pretend everything resumes to this black and golden room and the man lying by her side.

A smile curves her lips. Yes, just for now...

_This is all I need._


End file.
